the same worn trail.
the water, the sky, all of it
a familiar
canvas
to fill
my eyes.
the memories of so
many
friends that have
come to pass
are in the stones, the leaves
the weeds,
the grass.
i breathe deeply
as i walk.
stepping over the cords
of vines,
the fallen
trees. the rocks.
the debris of woods.
i'm here every year.
but this year
i realize, that i need
a new path, a new way
to travel on,
and to not look back.
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